The Wayward Sister (Wayward Sons Book 5) Page 2

  “Other than lost in the woods?”

  I smile. “Other than that.”

  “Okay, I guess. I spent a few months away from Lee Vines. Traveling,” she says as if offering an explanation as to why we hadn’t seen her in months. “We” being my two best friends, Smith and Holden, both park rangers.

  I nod and peel off the back of the adhesive. “Do you still own the shop?”

  “I do, but my brother Dexter is running it now, along with a little help.” I lift her elbow so I can reach her better. The flesh on the underside of her upper arm is soft and smooth. “I’ve got some business in town that’s going to take a few weeks to take care of. I thought a day in the woods would do me good.”

  I smooth out the bandage and assess my work. “Well, I’m happy to see you again, so maybe the fates played a hand in you getting lost today.”

  She laughs. “I wish it was the fates. I’m pretty sure it’s the fact I panicked. But you’re right, it’s nice to see you, too.”

  “I’m just glad to know you didn’t fall off the face of the earth.” I rub the back of my neck. “Or, you know, that Smith scared you off or something.”

  Her cheeks turn slightly pink. “He didn’t scare me off.”

  “You sure about that?”

  “It’s not your fault your friend is a jerk.”

  Smith Hutchins is one of my best friends. A brother, really. Me, Holden, and Smith all met as teenagers in a wilderness program. None of us were angels, but me and Holden had made a lot of progress over the years. Smith—he’s a good guy, but socially he comes off a bit gruff. Something happened between the two of them on New Year’s Eve. Neither are talking about it.

  “I’m glad to know that. Maybe you can come around more often.”

  Something in her eye flickers, a light blinking out. “I’ve just got a lot on my plate right now. If the fates are trying to tell me something, it’s that I’m supposed to be at home dealing with my obligations, and not taking days off.”

  “A hike in the woods is never a bad thing.” She raises her eyebrow and holds up her elbow. “I stand by it.”

  I take the lead and direct us back toward the path. She wasn’t that far off, which proves that she really must have panicked and lost her bearings. Sierra handled it the right way though; not moving and calling for help. Too many people get even more lost trying to find their way back.

  We walk back toward the parking lot, making small talk. Even when we first met her around Christmas she seemed a little withdrawn. Overwhelmed. Something has happened since then, making it harder to connect. With most women I’d be turned off, but with Sierra it just makes me want to get to know her better.

  “Thank you,” she says, kicking the dirt off her boots on the paved lot, “I really appreciate it.”

  I touch the curve of my cap. “No problem. That’s why we’re here.”

  She smiles. “It was nice to see you again, Adrian.”

  “You too.” I hold her eye, hopeful she may be receptive. “Maybe we can see each other again—sooner this time?”

  “I, uh…” she winces, “things aren’t great for me right now.”

  Ouch. “Right. Sure.”

  She climbs into her Jeep, and I stand back, watching her pull out of the parking space. In a blink she’s gone, heading back toward the east entrance, back toward wherever she came from. I realize I didn’t find out where she’s staying—just that she’s not in Lee Vines.

  The walkie crackles on my belt and I reach for it. “Everything okay?” Robbie asks.

  “Yep. She’s safe.”

  “Good, I’ll let Katie know.”

  I signal off and head back toward the truck, thinking about the woman with the dark hair and powerful eyes, already wanting to see her again.

  4

  Sierra

  After getting lost I go home, shower, get into bed, and turn on Supernatural. I feel like an absolute idiot, and no one but Dean, Sam, and some snarky Winchester humor are going to provide me comfort.

  Getting lost in the woods is like, an amateur move. It would be like Dean getting possessed by an all-powerful deity.

  Oh wait.

  The truth is that I’m not just humiliated at being lost. Shit happens. Bears happen. But being found by Adrian was a low. I’ve always prided myself on being independent—strong. And for him to find me like that, soaked and covered in mud, scared and shaking?

  And seriously? Adrian Brooks? At first, I’d just been relieved to see someone appear in the woods, figuring Katie got Robbie to come find me. But then the tall frame came fully into view, and there was no mistaking the shaggy blonde hair and sharp cheekbones. Relief turned into a burst of butterflies in my lower belly, and I saw the look of surprise in his eyes. That shifted quickly, and I felt my skin burn as his eyes swept over my body, assessing me inch by inch.

  Any chance that he may not remember me was dashed when he said my name. I’d only hung out with him twice. Once at the Christmas Eve party where I met him, Smith, and Holden. Then again at New Year's Eve.

  I’d been stunned when they walked into the Epic Café. Three gorgeous mountain men. They carried themselves with a confident ease, although there was a hint of darkness in Smith. I’m not afraid of men with baggage. I raised four of them, but he was closed off and distant from the beginning. It only got worse when we all got together for New Years with Robbie and Katie.

  Like I said, if the fates are trying to tell me something, it’s that I should focus on what I’m here for. Fixing this house. Selling it. Moving on.

  Like the Winchesters, if I learned anything over the last six months, it’s that you can’t run from your past.

  There’s something else that nags at me when I wake the next morning. I don’t like owing a debt, and what Adrian did yesterday feels like something I need to repay.

  How do you repay a guy for doing his job?

  I walk through the hardware store in town, loading up my cart with a few things to get started on the house, thinking about this. I lived with four teenaged boys. What did they like? Girls, obviously. Starlee, in particular. Sports. Video games, but most of all?

  Food.

  I get in line to check out and see a few cards for handy-men and contractors on the counter.

  “Know any of these people?” I ask the clerk. She’s an older woman with curly hair and thick glasses.

  “Most of them.” She picks up one. “Reid works here. He’s pretty good.”

  I take the card.

  “Thanks.”

  I wait for her to ring me up, and the clerk looks over my shoulder. “Oh, there he is. Reid, this lady is looking for a handyman.”

  I turn and see a man a few years older than me. His hair is tied back in a ponytail and he’s in a T-shirt with the name of the store across his chest. Mammoth Lakes Hardware. I recognize him immediately.

  “I think we went to high school together,” I say.

  He looks me up and down. “You sure? I think I’d remember you.”

  My cheeks heat. Reid Langford was a legend. Kind of a trouble maker. All the girls had a crush on him. “You were older than me. Sierra Falco.”

  I offer my hand. We shake and he asks, “Well, Sierra Falco, what kind of work are you looking for?”

  “I’m getting my house ready to sell. I just have a few upgrades and repairs to make.” I’m not really ready to make a decision on anything yet. It’s all moving so fast. “I’m trying to do what I can on my own.”

  “I’m happy to come out and take a look at it, give you an estimate.”

  “Sure,” I say. “Can I give you a call this week?”

  “Sounds good.” He smiles a bit too wide. “I’m sure we can work something out.”

  A customer walks up and asks Reid for help. He wanders off, talking about screw size. I grab my items off the counter and head out the door. Maybe finding help for the house won’t be so bad. My spirits lift, things feeling less insurmountable, and I place my bags in the car. That’s when I
see the produce stand. California summer fruit is one of the best things about living in this area. I walk over and inspect the baskets of early summer fruit. If there’s one thing I learned raising four boys and running a coffee shop…

  They love pie.

  I nod to the woman behind the table and point to the baskets of berries. “I’ll take three,” I say, pulling out my wallet. I think I know how to pay off my debt to Adrian, after all.

  The warm scent of sugar and baked fruit wafts from my window, catching the guard’s attention. He’s older, with both gray hair and a beard.

  “Smells delicious. You sure you don’t want me to just give that to Adrian?” he asks. “I promise to get it to them intact.” He adds a wink.

  “I think I should probably hand deliver it.”

  “I think you’re probably correct.”

  I’d already explained who I was and who I was looking for. He speaks into his walkie-talkie, and then gives me directions that should take me to Adrian. I take a turn off the main road and up a long, winding side street with signs that declare, “Do Not Enter. Parks Department Only.”

  At the end of the road is a building made of wood planks—dark red and sturdy. The cabin has a wide front porch. The guy at the front gate told me this is where I’d find Adrian.

  Two white trucks sit in the parking lot, both with parks department logos on the side. I grab the pie, still warm from the oven, and walk up the steps.

  The door opens before I make it all the way to the porch.

  Adrian Brooks waits in the doorway with a curious smile on his face.

  “Didn’t expect to see you again,” he says, as he leans his body against the doorframe. His arms cross over his chest, and I can’t help but see the line of muscle that lines his forearm.

  “I made you a pie.” I hold it out to him. “As a thank you.”

  He looks between my face and the pie. “It’s my job, Sierra, no need for a thank you.” He reaches for the pie and inhales. “But I’m not saying no to this. It smells amazing.” He steps back. “Do you want to come in?”

  I look behind him and see that it’s actually a cabin, not an office or something. I really want to run away and go home, but there’s something about Adrian that’s inviting. I’m also a little curious about how, and where, these guys live. I take a deep breath and say, “Sure.”

  I step across the threshold. I pause when I see the two guys sitting at the kitchen table playing cards.

  “You know Robbie and Holden, right?” Adrian says. “Sierra brought me a thank you pie.”

  Holden waves, while Robbie grins broadly and hops up, giving me a hug. “Hey, I heard you were back in town.”

  He and Katie had been dating for a while. He seemed good for her. Stable and fun. “Yeah, it’s just been a few days.” I look around at the main floor of the cabin. There’s a small kitchen and a living room area that has a big, stone fireplace against the wall. It’s rustic, but comfortable. A staircase leads to what I assume is a second floor. “How many of you live here?”

  “Four of us, right now. The three of us and Smith.”

  “Ah, Smith.”

  Robbie cocks an eyebrow. “What about him?”

  I wrinkle my nose. Holden shakes his head, and says, “Smith was being truly Smith-y the last time we hung out.”

  Robbie shakes his head. “What did he do?”

  “Nothing. He was fine.” Smith is fine. Damn fine, physically. But he’s also an ass, with a massive chip on his shoulder. While me, Holden, and Adrian had a good time on New Year’s, having a nice dinner and a few drinks, Smith couldn’t get his head out of his ass to enjoy himself.

  “He’s temperamental,” Holden says. “It takes a while to get to know him.”

  “Sure.” I get this, sort of. Dexter can be a challenge for new people. But Smith? He made it pretty clear he isn’t interested in me being around. Which is fine. The last thing I need in my life is a complicated, baggage-carrying guy.

  Even if he does look like a Greek god.

  “How’s the house coming along?” Robbie asks. Adrian is in the kitchen rummaging around a drawer. He pulls out a fork and a knife, then grabs a plate from the pantry.

  “Good. Well, I haven’t done much yet. I did get some supplies today, and I think maybe I’ve found a handyman.”

  “What are you doing?” Holden asks. He leans back in his seat and stretches his long legs across the floor. He’s slim with square shoulders and a long torso. A thick, short beard covers his chin and a curl of dark hair falls into his forehead.

  I fight the urge to lie. Or flee. I’m not sure why it’s so hard to just admit what I’m doing in Mammoth Lakes. “I’m cleaning up a family home to sell. It needs a few repairs before I can put it on the market.”

  See? That wasn’t so bad.

  Adrian walks over with a huge slab of pie on his plate, chewing. “Let us know if you need any help. We’re all pretty functional with a hammer and saw.” All of this is said through the goo of the massive forkful of pie he put in his mouth.

  I fight off the image of my lips cleaning his lips. “Yeah, thanks. I think I’ve got it under control.”

  “This pie,” he says, again around food, “is epic.”

  “Thank you.”

  Holden and Robbie hop up and move toward the kitchen. Adrian’s eyes pop wide. As they start to fill their plates. “Dude, don’t take all of it. She made it for me.”

  They’re distracted, and I use the opportunity to slip from the cabin back out to my Jeep. I’m backing out when another truck flies up the driveway, music blaring. I slam on my breaks to keep from crashing into it. The truck parks with a lurch and the music cuts. Through the window, I see Smith glaring at me.

  Perfect.

  I wave, undeterred, and crank the engine. His attitude is not my problem.

  Or at least that’s what I tell myself as I catch a glimpse of him in the rearview mirror. He’s standing in the middle of the driveway, arms crossed over his chest, watching me drive away. The look on his face, annoyed.

  There’s no reason at all for Smith to have a problem with me. Not one, but from the way he looks at me? I think maybe there is.

  5

  Sierra

  The bell rings over the diner doorway. I look up from my cup of mediocre coffee and see a familiar mop of dark hair. His hands are shoved in his pockets, and his eyes skim the room, the steel gray finally landing on me.

  I give my brother a weak smile.

  He offers me a matching one in return.

  I don’t deny that I assess him as he walks over; checking out the way he’s grown in the last six months. He looks good—less tired and stressed. The pressures of court hearings and high school are behind him. I think he’s several inches taller—he’d passed me years before. I stand as he gets closer, my hands shaking nervously.

  “Hey, baby brother,” I say, trying not to choke on the words.

  His eyes glisten. “Hey, sis.”

  I’m grateful when he pulls me into a hug. For so long, we only had one another. We were each other’s rocks, at least until I ran away.

  I pull back and tug at the scruff on his chin. “It’s getting thick.”

  He laughs and eases into the booth. “Yeah, I may shave it off this summer. Depends on how hot it gets.”

  It’s idle chit-chat, the stuff people do when they’re avoiding big topics.

  “How are the guys?” I ask as the waitress arrives with a steaming hot pot of coffee. He doesn’t answer until she’s gone.

  “Just making the best of our last summer together. Jake leaves for training camp in a few weeks. George and Charlie are getting ready for school.”

  “How angry are they with me.”

  “Angry isn’t the right word. Hurt works. Maybe confused. We’re blood, but those guys…you made a promise.”

  His eyes pin to the tattoo on my arm.

  Family don’t end in blood.

  He’s right. I swallow the guilt. “How’s Starle
e?”

  His expression softens. “She’s really good.”

  I press my fingers against the warmth of my cup and watch as he measures out sugar and cream for his. He takes a sip and grimaces. I laugh. “It’s not like Wayward Sun coffee, that’s for sure.”

  He shakes his head. “No, not even close.”

  We look at one another. I’m the one that called him. It’s time for me to tell him why.

  “So listen, I’ve been staying at the house and taking an assessment of what needs to be repaired.”

  “The HVAC for sure.”

  “Right, yep, I got an estimate on that. There are some other things. Roofing issues, plumbing, and then obviously it needs a major cleanout.”

  He swallows thickly. Neither of us really went back and cleaned out our stuff or our parents' things after the accident. We took what we needed and started over.

  “What’s the end game to this?” he asks quietly.

  “Right now, I just want to get it kind of settled, back to a functional place. From there, maybe sell it.”

  His eyebrows shoot up. “You want to sell the house?”

  “It’s rotting away, Dex, which is not what Mom or Dad would have wanted.”

  His jaw tightens. “Do you need my help?”

  I shake my head. “Actually, no. I feel like taking this on is something I need to do. I’m struggling,” I laugh darkly, “obviously. I want to take care of this—unload the baggage.”

  “I understand.” He pushes his coffee cup away. “And then what? You come back to the Wayward Sun? Take back the house?”

  “I haven’t gotten that far, but hopefully, while I’m working on the house, I can figure that out.”

  My brother mulls this over in his quiet, thoughtful, way. He can be unnerving, but I know it takes him a minute to process situations. I don’t feel the low grade of anger under his skin like I used to—that’s been smoothed out.

  “If this is what you want to do, I’m okay with it. My life is in Lee Vines. The shop and house? We can deal with all of that later.” He runs his hand through his curls, a sure sign he’s agitated. “You hurt us badly when you left, Sierra. Thank god for Mrs. Nye and Starlee’s mom, or we would have been fucked.”